


I Wanna Get to Know You, Vol. 1

by winterschild



Series: I Wanna Get to Know You [1]
Category: One Direction (Band)
Genre: Blogger Louis, Concerts, Endgame Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson, Famous Harry Styles, Fan Interaction, First Meetings, Fluff, Lonely Harry, M/M, Meet-Cute, Niall Horan & Harry Styles Friendship, Rock Star Harry Styles, Writer Louis Tomlinson
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-28
Updated: 2020-07-28
Packaged: 2021-03-06 00:13:49
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 6,734
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25574143
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/winterschild/pseuds/winterschild
Summary: International pop star Harry Styles is jamming on stage when he sees a fan in the crowd that just took his breath away.Based on a y/n Twitter Thread posted by @tbslbbycakes, but with some added features.Title taken from "Sunflower, Vol. 6" by Harry Styles
Relationships: Harry Styles/Louis Tomlinson
Series: I Wanna Get to Know You [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1853449
Comments: 5
Kudos: 136





	I Wanna Get to Know You, Vol. 1

“ _Watermelon Sugar High~~ **Watermelon Sugar**_.” The music stopped abruptly, screams overpowering the atmosphere as Harry stared over the crowd. They were hopping on their toes, smiles bearing on their faces as if they had never experienced such joy. Harry loved this. He loved this part of his job—the touring, spreading music and love through his words and a guitar. It was hard at times: Being away from family and friends, not being able to really date anyone because your name was too big and you were always in the spotlight, but he loved this. Until he found someone to give it all up for, he’d keep doing this.

Harry’s grin matched those in the audience, “How are we doing, Orlando?!” He received screams in reply, several of the people in front of him bopping back and forth between their friends and him. He sent them a wave, and he could only imagine the thoughts that just ran through their heads. Harry chuckled, shaking his head disbelieving as he looked over to his guitarist, Mitch. He turned back to the audience, allowing his eye to sweep over them once again. Suddenly, his eyes stopped, becoming caught on one person who was about ten rows from the stage in the Cherry pit.

There was a boy around his age—maybe a couple of years older than himself. Saying that this boy had taken his breath away would be an understatement with his beautiful, messy brown fringe and his sun-kissed, golden Florida skin. The boy was short and petite, swimming in a green Adidas jumper, somehow not sweating to death in the Florida heat. The spotlight from the stage was blinding Harry, but not nearly as much as the smile this boy had on his face, and Harry had to control his heart from pounding out of his chest.

He kept eye contact with the boy for a few more seconds, just long enough to catch his attention before looking back to Mitch, who seemed to be watching Harry. His cheeks were clearly flushed, but luckily if any cameras caught it or Mitch asked about it, he could blame it on bouncing around the stage during “Watermelon Sugar.” He pulled away from the microphone stand, making his way across the stage to the cooler by his best friend’s feet.

Reaching in the cooler, Harry removed a water bottle, promptly removing the cap and gulping down half the bottle. Mitch chuckled at him and rolled his eyes but kept a playful smile on his face.

His best friend leaned over to say in his ear, “Who’s got your attention out there, Styles?”

“Fuck off,” Harry laughed, scrunching his nose before taking another drink. He turned to the crowd, catching the boy again, whose bright eyes were focused on the movements that Harry was making. Harry nodded his head to signal Mitch as he responded, “The boy ten rows back. Bright green jumper. He’s proper fit I’d say.”

“Of course, you would.”

“What’s that supposed to mean?” Harry looked at Mitch incredulously, who just laughed in response and handed him the guitar for the next song. Harry accepted it, tossing the now-empty water bottle into the cooler and making his way back to the centre of the stage to perform a few more songs.

“This next song I wrote is quite a personal one to me—sing along if you know it. Here is ‘To Be So Lonely.’” The crowd screamed as he counted down, strumming the first few notes along with Mitch and moving into the first verse. Harry kept his eyes trained on the stunning boy, who was now swaying to the melody and singing along with the words. When the chorus hit, the boy air-drummed before jumping right back into the music, leaning over to seemingly shout the lyrics at the girl he had brought. Even throughout the second verse, Harry had a hard time keeping his eyes away from the boy.

When he had gotten halfway through “Adore You” and hadn’t managed to rip his eyes away from the fan, others in the crowd had begun to take notice. At the end of his new single, Mitch walked over, touching his shoulder softly.

Harry leaned back curious for Mitch to whisper, “Fans are noticing. You’re staring a lot.” This caught the singer off guard and finally brought to his attention how everyone in front of him was casting glances back to row ten. The boy was now looking around suspiciously, cheeks glowing red probably from the sudden attention. The girl that was stood next to him was now hitting his arm, pointing up at Harry, who just smiled at her excitement. She let out a squeal and forced the boy to look up at the stage with her hand on his chin.

“Alright. I’m going to slow it down a bit with this next one. I think most of you all will know it,” Harry says, lips pressed against the microphone and eyes casting over the audience. “I wrote this about my ex-girlfriend, as I’m sure most of you know.” He looked back to the boy, eyes boring into one another. “I want to make sure I make it clear though—I said ex.” The screams roared throughout the stadium as a smirk found its way to his lips. “Here is ‘Cherry.’” Green tore away from blue as Harry looked at his fingers strumming the strings. He played the first few chords, pulling away from the microphone to take in a deep breath, then stepping back up against it and starting the painful lyrics. 

After performing “Cherry,” the tall man handed his Gibson to the stagehand, lending him a thanks. Harry stepped back up to the microphone, eyes trained on the boy in front of him once again, even though he had barely managed to look away. He licked his lips, tasting the saltiness from his sweat before yelling into the mic, “Knock, knock?”

The crowd simultaneously yells back a “Who’s There?” that causes Harry to let out a snort.

Eyes trained on the green jumper, he continued, “Orange.”

“Orange who?” 

“Orange you stunning, darling?” While the crowd went wild, mostly screaming, Harry kept his forest eyes focused on the boy, who was rolling his own in response to the joke. When he looked back at Harry, the man on stage sent him a wink, then tore his eyes away. Harry cracked a few more jokes, half the crowd screaming while the other half groaned at their ridiculousness. Just as he was about to spout another one, he found the boy looking down, face illuminated by his phone, and something—probably jealously—bubbled inside Harry’s stomach.

“Hey, darling,” shouted Harry, eyes fixed on the boy who looked up with wide eyes. Harry noticed the girl next to him elbow his side, and he reacted with a wince. “I’m telling premium jokes up here and you’re looking at your phone. Am I not entertaining enough for you?” The crowd laughed at that, turning to look at the boy who was suddenly drawing in on himself. He seems to just laugh it off but looked around to double-check if anyone else was on their phone. Harry didn’t break eye contact with him, brow raising as he waited for a response. After a few more seconds, the boy seemed to raise his own eyebrows, seemingly shocked that Harry was addressing him directly. “What’s your name?”

The crowd began to scream again, the sound of several thousand names buzzing in his ear. He watched the boy look around again, clearly not believing that the man on stage was addressing him directly—he was a few rows back, so Harry could understand his confusion, but, oh, did he look cute when he was confused. The fan looked at him once again, pointing at himself to clarify. Harry chuckled, nodding his head as he added, “Yes, you, love. What’s your name?” He saw satin pink lips begin to move, but it was difficult for Harry to read his lips as he attempted to shout his name.

Harry’s eyebrows furrowed, watching the boy struggle over the loud audience, so he looked around playfully, shushing the crowd repeatedly until they began to settle down. “Be quiet, shh!” The rest of the audience began to shush as well, resulting in an almost-completely quiet stadium of 50,000 people. “Go ahead, now, love.”

Harry didn’t know what name he was expecting to come from the boy, but he knew what he wasn’t expecting was a high-pitched British accent to shout back at him, not that he was complaining. “It’s Louis!”

“Louis,” Harry confirmed, to which the apparently British boy nodded his head back excitingly. “Louis. Louis. Louis. That’s a beautiful name, Louis; suits you well. Beautiful name for a beautiful man.” That withdrew a wild cheer from the audience and a blush from Louis. It was moments like these that Harry was happy he came out the previous year as bisexual. Harry shushed the crowd, and the slight buzz fell over them again. “Louis, where are you from?”

Louis’ eyes widened again, but he promptly responded, “Doncaster!”

“Ah, good ole Doncaster then? How are those Rovers doing? Good, eh?” Louis just responded with a thumbs up and Harry smiled at how adorable the man was. “Well, thank you for coming all the way out to Orlando tonight, Louis. I appreciate it.” Louis blushed again, and Harry wouldn’t complain if that were the last thing he ever saw. He watched as Louis turned to the girl next to him, obviously whispering something in her ear, before smiling back up at the stage. Harry looked around, taking in the crowd and their excitement one more time before stepping up to the mic and saying, “I have been so fortunate to be back here tonight in Orlando. Thank you for that. Thank you for everything you do for me and for giving me the opportunity to write and play music for you all. I love getting to do this for you; you all make me as happy as I make you. Thank you again. This will be the last song of the evening.”

The crowd awed in disappointment, and he understood what they felt because it was the same way he felt every time he left the stage. Tonight, however, was slightly different, because tonight he had found Louis. A lingering feeling was caught in Harry’s stomach, but he couldn’t quite place what it was or why he was feeling it. This was just another fan, after all. Harry sees millions of fans in the span of the year, so why did this one make any difference just because he was maybe the most attractive man he had ever seen? 

“What song do you want to hear,” Harry yelled excitingly, hearing every song title shouted out to him by the fifty thousand people in the arena. However, he didn’t hear any of them because his eyes lingered on the Doncaster man once again. He beamed at him, pressing his lips back to the mic and staring him dead in the eye, “What about you, Lou? What’s your request?”

The crowd seemed to silence itself as they all turned to look at Louis’ general location, waiting for his response. Despite fifty thousand pairs of eyes on him, he handled it well, stuttering only slightly as he said, “Sunflower, Vol. 6!”

“’Sunflower, Vol. 6’, huh?” The crowd seemed to love that, screaming positively at the suggestion and Harry figured that Louis just won the hearts of every person that night—of course, he did; he was beautiful. “Alright, everyone. This one is for my sunflower,” Harry shyly stated, bowing his head with tinted cheeks and a small smile, “Louis.” He glanced to Mitch, who only chuckled and smiled at Harry, strumming the beginning chords of “Sunflower, Vol. 6” and Harry began to bop around the stage. Every now and again, Harry would stare at Louis when he sang certain lyrics. When he sang, “ _Let me inside wish I could get to know you_ ,” he saw Louis pause from his dancing to smile at Harry and waved slightly. The “ _I’ve got your face hung up high in a gallery_ ” was sung with Harry’s whole heart, eyes capturing Louis’ as he watched him jump and dance his heart out, and Harry could’ve sworn he was falling.

The song came to end eventually, and so did the show. The audience gave their last few screams as Harry began to wave at everyone, wishing he could stay there forever. He couldn’t though, and he would have to get over it. He stepped back up to the microphone, locking eyes with the beautiful man ten rows back once more, and spoke, “I love you.” Only a beat passed when he made sure to add, “All of you!” And he ran off stage, waving goodbye one more time before the evening came to end.

His team were quick to push him towards the back exit, hoping to beat any lingering fans who would mob the car. Luckily, they were staying in the Orlando area for a few days for a break, and Harry had taken a car, and not his bus, to the arena tonight. He was pushed into the backseat of an Audi R8, and Mitch was close behind. The rest of the band would meet them back at the hotel, so he settled into a comfortable position, head resting against the cool window as he watched the city pass by.

Ten minutes into the car ride, Harry had gotten lost in thoughts about Louis, knowing it was ridiculous and he should just forget about him, but he couldn’t. Something was different this time—and he couldn’t just let him go.

“What’s going through your head? You’re being too silent for post-concert,” Mitch noted, lifting his eyes from his phone, where he was probably texting Sarah, to stare intently at his best mate.

Harry just shrugged, a smile making its way to his lips and he couldn’t stop the warm, fuzzy feeling that flowed through him and into his chest. “He was pretty, wasn’t he? He had that spark in his eye; I bet he’s really nice.”

“H,” Mitch consoled, reaching over to place a hand on Harry’s knee. “You know you’ll never see him again. It’s just how it is.” The smile on Harry’s lips slowly faded into a frown and his eyes went back to watching out the window.

With his head resting against the window, he whispered dejectedly, “I know.” Harry closed his eyes, hoping to etch Louis’ face into his memory before it got lost in the crowd with every other fan he had seen, and attempted to push down the feelings that threatened to rise. Harry loved his job, but sometimes he really hated it.

~

“Hey, Harry! How are you, mate?” Harry smiled through the phone, happy to hear the Irish lilt of his friend Niall on the other end. It was his second day in Orlando, and he had no plans. He also knew that Niall happened to be at his studio in Orlando.

Harry sat up in bed in his hotel room, back resting against the headboard as he said, “Hey, Nialler. I’m doing pretty well actually. A little bird told me that you were in Orlando at your studio this week?”

“That little bird would be correct, mate. You looking to get some studio time?”

Harry hummed, “I am. I had a show last night and got some sudden inspiration to write. I honestly just want to get it in a studio.” He had given up on sleep at four in the morning, inspiration and lyrics buzzing through his head, and they were all about Louis. He knew he was being ridiculous, but he honestly couldn’t stop himself. He had never felt such strong emotions.

“Yeah, H, that sounds bloody amazing,” Niall exclaimed excitingly. “I haven’t seen you in ages; I’d love to have you down here.”

“Perfect, mate. I’m thinking about ten?”

“I’ll be there,” Niall concurred, clearly smiling on the other end. “Can’t wait to see you, man. It’s been way too fucking long.”

“Agreed. See you in a few hours.” They said their farewells, hanging up the phone, and Harry rushed to get into the shower and get ready to go.

Just two hours later, he found himself getting out of his car in front of Niall’s studio, walking inside and greeting the girl at the counter. Before he could even ask for Niall, the Irish man was there, a massive, teeth-bearing smile on his face. He was wearing his corduroy top tucked into white slacks, and his brunette hair was pushed up into a quiff.

Niall pulled him into a bear hug, patting Harry’s back a few times before pulling away to hold his shoulders. “If it isn’t Harry Styles, as I live and breathe. Fuck, man. I’m so excited you’re here! Let’s get you into a studio, yeah? I got it all set up for you.” Niall kept his arm over Harry’s shoulder, passing through the lobby into a private hallway marked ‘Employees Only.’

The Irishman wasn’t kidding when he told Harry everything was all set up. He felt thankful for Niall. They had met early in Harry’s career when Niall was fresh out of university taking over Iriistic Studios in London from his father. It was the first studio that Harry had recorded in following his departure from his original label, who had denied him the privilege of being himself. The Horans had welcomed Harry into their studio with open arms; they were happy to have a Columbia Records artist on their team. Niall was also extremely talented and often helped Harry write the music he was proud to release.

“So, what kind of inspiration did you have, H,” asked Niall, helping Harry settle into the smaller studio. “Must’ve been a beautiful piece of inspiration for you to write an entire song in a night.” Harry chuckled, shaking his head at his friend as he pulled out his sheet music.

“There was this bloke in the crowd last night,” Harry explained, shrugging nonchalantly. “He was just really pretty, and I had to write about him.”

Niall laughed incredulously, “A fan, like in the audience?”

“Oh, fuck off. You and Mitch both,” Harry laughed, shoving Niall in his chair to make him topple slightly. “He was pretty alright. He seemed like a good bloke. Beautiful smile. Great hair. Wonderful accent.”

“Fuck, mate.” Harry looked up to meet Niall’s eyes, whose expression had suddenly turned serious. “You fell fucking hard, yeah?” Harry’s eyes dropped back to the floor as he bit his lip. After Harry’s lack of response, Niall sighed, “Well, the studio is yours. I’ll sit in and do some adjustments for you. Let’s see what you’ve got.”

Harry nodded, standing from his seated position, and making his way into the padded studio. He pulled out his lyrics and picked up his guitar, playing the melody he had written down that morning. 

“ _One day you’ll come into my world and say it all. You’ll say we’ll be together even when you’re lost. One day you’ll say these words I thought you’d never say. You saw we’re better off together in our bed—”_

Niall would occasionally stop him, ask him to repeat the verse or making lyrical suggestions. Eventually, Niall joined him in the booth, accompanying him with another instrument and Harry felt good. After several hours in the booth, Harry was both tired and hungry but satisfied with the work they had accomplished together.

“So, ‘Something Great,’ huh?” Harry just let his eyes linger on his Irish friend. “What’s up, Harry? It can’t be just a random fan in the crowd getting you this way. You’ve seen plenty of fans.”

Harry let his thoughts drift because both Niall and Mitch were right. He didn’t really know either if he was being honest. No other fan—or person for that matter—had ever made him feel this way. Maybe it was the impending loneliness of his career that was finally getting to him. I mean, for God’s sake, he was twenty-six and the longest relationship he had ever been in lasted a year and a half. It wasn’t like Harry had chosen the best field to harbour a healthy, normal relationship. And Harry wanted that—he wanted someone to come home to at night, cuddle with on bad days, and binge Netflix with on his days off. He wanted someone to spoil and buy gifts, to have at Christmas and wear matching jumpers by the tree opening presents with his mum and sister. Harry would love someone to flaunt to the media, but he couldn’t. He had tried, but he never found anyone that wanted to stick around for him. He was gone a lot; most people can’t just pick up and travel with Harry, leaving their entire lives behind. Most people couldn’t handle the mood changes, or the rumours, or the fans. Harry always figured that being happy from a relationship wasn’t in the cards, no matter how many birthday wishes he wasted on finding someone to raise a family with.

“I think I’m just lonely, Niall,” Harry admitted, eyes focused on his chipping nail polish. “I don’t know. I’m stuck on a bus with a couple, who seemed to fall into love despite their travelling. And something about this guy, Ni, I don’t know. He just sparked something in me. He sparked this loneliness and this realization that I don’t, and haven’t really been able to, have that. I suppose I just miss it.”

Niall watched his mate with concerned eyes, asking, “What are you thinking then? You want to settle?”

“I guess,” Harry admitted, bringing his hand up to rub his frustrated face. “I don’t know. I mean, you’re always travelling, but you seem to be able to have a healthy relationship.”

“But I’m also not travelling for three-quarters of the years, H. And when I’m not travelling for a job, I’m not constantly in a recording studio away from home.” Harry’s nose scrunched at the thought, knowing his mate was right. “Have you ever thought that maybe it’s time to take a step back, H? I mean, for as long as I’ve known you, and even before that, you’ve just been running nonstop. Maybe it’s time you take a step back after this tour?”

That scared Harry—terrified him really. “A life without making music? I don’t know if I could do that, Nialler.”

“No, not without music. You can still write and record, but maybe take a little longer to write your next album. Give yourself a bit of a longer break—discover the world, discover yourself. I mean, Ed does it every year. He releases an album, comes back for a year, and then drops off the face of the Earth for another year before coming back to record. Maybe you could do that.”

“I just feel like I’d disappoint the fans too much,” Harry admitted, a negative ball lodging itself in Harry’s heart. “But maybe you’re right. Or maybe that’ll just make my loneliness even more prominent.” They both laughed at the remark, despite it not being funny. 

Finally, Niall slapped his knees, checking the digital clock on the wall before stating, “I’m meeting up with some old uni friends who are visiting the area for an early dinner and a pint or two. Why don’t you tag along? I think you’d like them.”

Harry smiled at his friend, liking the idea of being around people who weren’t his band or crew for the night. “Honestly, mate, that sounds amazing. Let’s do it.”

“Okay, good,” Niall smiled, standing from his chair. “I’ve been dying to hook you up with one of them anyway. He’s a real good bloke—maybe he’ll help you forget all about that guy at the show last night.” Niall sent a cheeky wink Harry’s way and he just rolled his eyes in response but couldn’t help the smirk that crept onto his lips.

“Fuck off, mate. Come on, I’m hungry.” The pair abandoned the studio, making their way to Niall’s car, and Harry already began to feel better. Maybe a new guy will help.

When Niall pulled up to the pub, he wasn’t expecting to find a hole-in-wall restaurant that looked like it dated back a century; he loved it if he was honest. The best part is it seemed like no one would find him here if they tried, and that’s what he really loved.

Niall shifted the car into park, turning off the car and turning to Harry with a blinding smile. “You’re going to love my mates, H,” Niall exclaimed, eyes shining with excitement. 

“They’re your uni mates, yeah? Think they’re gonna mind a pop star stopping in?” Another thing Harry would be honest about is he has been freaking out the entire car ride here. He was positive Niall hadn’t warned his mates prior to inviting Harry, and he was really hoping to feel normal for a few hours after the last twelve he had.

Niall seemed completely blind to Harry’s inner panic, laughing out his response. “Trust me, they’re not those kinda blokes. They’ll make you feel more normal than you ever have before.” Harry let out a breath of relief he didn’t know he was holding. “Come on, let’s go.”

They stepped out of the car and made their way into Callaghan’s. Harry instantly loved the atmosphere, with its low lighting and funky wall décor—he could tell why this was probably Niall’s go-to in Orlando.

“Lads!” The pop star jumped at his mate’s sudden outburst but recovered quickly when he heard shouting coming from a corner booth along the back wall. Three blokes were up out of their seats, huddling to hug Niall like they hadn’t seen him a while, and Harry longed for the hometown friends he was now missing. “Lads, this is my friend Harry—he decided to tag along for some normalcy. H, this is Liam, Calvin, Oli, and—wait where’s Tommo?”

The one with the nicely styled hair and puppy eyes informed, “Oh, he went to the toilets.” Niall accepted that answer and Liam turned to Harry, reaching a hand out to him, “Hey, mate. How ya doing?”

Harry shook his hand back, letting his body relax. “I’m good, yeah. Thanks for asking.”

“Well, why don’t you take a seat, mate.” Harry let a full smile shine through finally, getting comfortable in between Liam and Niall, who instantly began to catch up. It was halfway through Liam’s story about his girlfriend Maya when Harry saw him—messy, soft fringe, sun-kissed skin, blue-blue eyes. His petite frame was clad in a tight navy-blue scoop neck and light washed jean shorts, and Harry’s eyes were locked on his chest and arms, which were littered in tattoos. It wasn’t the man’s ridiculous beauty that had stolen his breath; no, it was the fact that it was the lad from the concert last night that he thought he’d never see again standing in front of him.

Harry jabbed his elbow in Niall’s ribs, who winced but turned to question him. Harry just paled, his heart picking up speed and hands starting to shake. “What’s the problem, H?”

“It’s him,” Harry strangled out, conspicuously lifting a finger to point at Louis. “That’s the one from the concert.”

Niall’s eyebrows furrowed, looking at the direction in which Harry was pointing, only to let out a laugh and smirk. “You’re fucking kidding me.” Before Harry could argue more, Niall was getting out of the booth to envelop the beautiful man into a hug. “Tommo! It’s been too long, mate. I see your Rovers are still sucking.”

“Listen, lad,” Louis responded, and Harry thought he could melt just at the tone of his voice; he knew many people probably wouldn’t prefer how high pitched it was, but Harry thinks he was in love already with the perfect mix of pitch and rasp. “At least my Premiere team isn’t sucking tits.”

“Fuck off,” Niall spat playfully. He released the Doncaster man, leading him to the table while stating, “I brought along a friend. Thought you’d be interested in meeting him.” When Louis—Tommo—had finally looked up, Harry could finally see the true colour of his eyes, and his breath escaped him. They weren’t just blue; no, it was like God had stolen the seven seas and placed them in this man’s eyes. His lips were a beautiful satin pink, and he had light freckles spattered on his nose. Louis stopped in his tracks, eyes growing wide as they met Harry’s, and Harry quite liked the reaction he got out of him. “Tommo, this is Harry Styles. Harry, this is my university roommate Louis Tomlinson, who, may I mention, is a massive fan of your music.”

Louis turned to Niall, eyes suddenly sharp as he punched his arm defensively. Niall held in his flinch, recovering with a smile and those devious eyes. Harry stood himself, finally allowing his feet to catch up with his brain, and extended a hand out to the shorter man—now that he was in front of him, he could actually see just how small the man really was. He couldn’t have been more than 5’7, maybe 5’8 on a good day, and it just endeared Harry further.

Louis accepted the shake, hand delicately place in Harry’s much larger one. Green met blue and Harry didn’t know how he was still standing. He hadn’t slept in twenty-four hours because his thoughts had been racing that he’d never see Louis again, yet here he was in front of him, and he was best mates with one of Harry’s best mates.

“It’s a pleasure to see you again, Harry.”

“The feelings mutual…sunflower,” smirked Harry. Louis blushed and Harry’s heart skipped a beat. “Should we sit?” Louis nodded shyly, crawling in next to Liam and Harry next to him. The pints were poured, and conversation seemed to flow easily between the six men; Harry felt like he had known these men as long as Niall had, but especially Louis. 

Louis was amazing. He was funny, and sweet, and made sure to pay attention to Harry when he rambled slightly off topic in response to someone else. If one of the other lads tried to speak over him, Louis would direct the conversation back to Harry to make sure he was a part of the conversation. Louis was eccentric, which seemed the opposite of how he was last night, but in Louis’ defence, Harry did call him out in front of fifty-thousand people. Most importantly, Louis was treating him like a human being—like he was the most normal guy in the world, and not an international pop star.

Niall and Calvin started a debate about who would win the Championship in Premier next season, and while Harry was a true Brit boy who loved his footy, he was much more interested in getting to know Louis.

With that thought, he turned towards Louis to draw him into their own conversation. “So, did you like the show last night?”

Louis’ soft grin made Harry’s insides burst as he responded, “It was brilliant, Harry. Could’ve gone without being called out in front of a million people, but I had a blast.”

“I’m glad to hear it. And, yeah,” Harry blushed, scratching the back of his neck shyly. “Sorry about that, but at least it was only fifty-thousand people and not a million. In my defence, I never thought I’d see you again.”

“Does that mean your disappointed today,” Louis teased.

“No! Not at all.” Louis seemed to take amusement at Harry’s panic, but Harry couldn’t hate him for it. “If I’m being honest, I couldn’t stop thinking about you since last night.” Harry’s cheeks tinted pink at the admission, hoping that he wouldn’t scare Louis off, but it seemed that it had the opposite effect he was expecting.

Louis’ eyes widened, sparkling with happiness, and his teeth were on display, “I couldn’t stop thinking about you either. I didn’t know Niall knew you; you’d think he would’ve mentioned it considering that I’m such a big fan.”

“Are you really?”

Louis giggled, eyes downcast to the floor, “You were watching me plenty last night. I’m surprised you didn’t see me scream out every lyric. My poor sister was just there to support me and so I could tell everyone she was the fan and not me. Being twenty-eight and male isn’t necessarily your ideal fan.”

“Everyone is an ideal fan,” Harry shrugged casually, letting himself get lost in Louis’ smile. “I’m really happy you came though. Clearly, you went to university in Britain, so do you live out here in Florida now?”

“Oh, no,” Louis answered, shaking his head in the process. “I actually travel for work and happened to be in Orlando at the same time you had a show. It kinda worked out perfectly for me.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a travel blogger.” That was—not what Harry was expecting. It isn’t that he couldn’t see Louis being the creative type, he had just never actually met a travel blogger before; he thought they only existed in fanfiction.

“So, what exactly do you blog then? Do you write for your own blog or for a publication? How does one even become a travel blogger? I feel like I’ve only ever heard people dream about becoming one of those.”

Louis’ eyes shined at Harry’s interest and the words started tumbling out of his mouth, “Well, it’s actually a bit of a funny story. I was in university for drama and English because I wanted to be a teacher originally. In my second year, however, I ended taking a semester abroad in Greece and decided to write about my trip on Tumblr, because I had this decent-sized following. Apparently, people really liked my writing style, and I gained an even bigger following. My junior year, I ended up purchasing a domain to make money from it, and I switched my degree to English and Journalism. My final year in uni, I had a bloke from the _Travel Guide_ reach out to me and ask me to write for them. So now I do both—the journal is a bit more formal and tourist-centric, but my blog is more for those hidden gems. Like this place.”

Harry was in awe of Louis, loving how he got excited when he talked about his career and his university journey. “And you’re happy doing it?”

Louis nodded, continuing, “I love it. It can make it a little hard to have any type of romantic relationship sometimes, but it’s truly an amazing experience. And I’m doing something I really love on my own terms. And I get to take pictures, and I love doing that as well.”

“You’ll have to show me your blog sometime,” Harry requested honestly. “When I get the time to actually enjoy where I’m going, I love checking out the hidden gems. Don’t get me wrong, I love the touristy type things, but I feel like you’re not really getting to know the area much, which is what I love to do.”

“Me too,” Louis exclaimed. “When I was in Greece for that semester, I felt like there was so much more that I had yet to see, and I just wanted to tell people about it. Especially in a place with such a rich history—like you can’t just visit Athens and think you know the country.”

“I love that, Lou.” And Harry really did; he could tell how passionate Louis was about his work—almost as passionate as he was about his. “You said it’s difficult to date? You can’t just bring your partner with you on your travels?”

Harry noticed how Louis stiffened slightly, straightening up in his seat as his bright smile faded into contempt. “I mean, yeah. Believe it or not, a lot of men are looking more for stability and settling down at my age, not hopping from place to place. My last boyfriend and I broke up about it actually—we argued a lot about how I was never home.”

“I get that.” Louis looked at him with sad eyes and the pop star felt that someone actually understood his struggle. “Being a musician isn’t exactly the ideal job for a long-term relationship either.”

The man across from him reached out, resting one of his hands gently on Harry’s bicep. “Maybe you just haven’t found that perfect person yet. You’re a right catch, Harry Styles.”

“Yeah,” Harry chuckled. “You are too, sunflower.” He leaned into the touch, letting the comfortable silence brush over them for a few moments. “So, when you’re not travelling the world, where do you call home?”

“I have a flat in London. It allows me to be only a few hours away from my family if anything happens while being in the middle of all the hustle and bustle,” Louis explained, retracting his hand from Harry’s arm, which left a cold spot in its wake.

“You’re close to your family then?”

Louis nodded excitedly, “I am. I have five younger sisters and a younger brother. You actually saw the oldest of the girls with me last night. That’s Lottie—she travels with me sometimes when I’m going anywhere with the sun.”

“Six siblings? Holy shit,” Harry laughed, green eyes widening at the fact. “It’s just me and my sister, and I think we were plenty enough for our mum to handle.”

“My mum somehow managed with us lot. She was alone for a lot of it, but I tell you, I think she has raised some pretty great kids.” Louis looked down at his fingers with sudden darkness. When his beautiful eyes drifted back up to catch Harry’s, he saw the storm brewing behind them. “She actually passed away a few years ago. It’s been hard without her, and I’ve had to stick to writing articles from London a lot more since then. Now, finally, I feel like I’m just getting back on my feet with my blog.”

“I’m sorry to hear about your mum, Lou. I couldn’t even imagine what that must’ve been like.”

Louis chuckled, mood-brightening slightly, as he joked, “At least you didn’t break up with me on her death anniversary like that last jackass did.”

“You’re fucking with me?” First off, the idea of anyone breaking up with Louis seemed absurd. Second off, he believed that even the biggest douchebags wouldn’t break up with a man on the anniversary of his mum’s death. “What a fucker.”

“Tell me about it.” The two laughed, letting all negativity float away between them. Silence fell over the two again, but it wasn’t bad—no, it was perfect. Harry felt comfortable with Louis; he felt like Louis understood him and his struggles. Best of all, he knew that Louis was at least interested in men, and that made it so much easier to flirt with him. It didn’t even feel like flirting, however, because it was so easy—the effort wasn’t necessary with Louis.

Their moment was interrupted by a cough coming from Niall. The two men jumped, turning to face the other boys who were looking at them deviously. Harry just rolled his eyes as he adjusted in his seat to face the table again.

“If you lads are done flirting, we were thinking of ordering some actual food,” Niall pushed, raising a chuckle out of the other boys at the table.

Louis rolled his eyes before hardening them at the Irish lad, “Oi, fuck off, would you? Order some damn food then.”

“Oi, Harry, mate,” Oli spoke from the other side of the booth, “Tell us about being the world’s most-famous pop star right now.” Harry nodded, feeling more comfortable than he had in years as he explained the hardships and benefits that came with being a pop star. Even after their food had come and gone, he felt himself enjoy the company and figured he might’ve found himself some new friends.

Most importantly, Harry thinks he might be sitting next to the love of his life, but that’s a story for a different time.

**Author's Note:**

> I read this thread on Twitter and I just saw Louis as the fan, so I wrote Louis as the fan.
> 
> This series is To Be Continued...  
> Check back for more of this series or check out my profile for other works.
> 
> Thank you so much for reading!
> 
> Stay safe, wash your hands, and treat people with kindness.
> 
> ~winterchilds


End file.
